


The Seven Vials

by Tarlan



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Action, Angst, Drama, M/M, Post-Colonization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-11-09
Updated: 2000-11-09
Packaged: 2017-10-19 04:52:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colonization is about to begin and the Rebels are not about to let that happen. Alex has to keep Mulder safe from both sides.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Seven Vials

**Author's Note:**

> This story is the continuation of my snippet 'Another Dead End' (ARCHIVING NOTE: The prequel has now been incorporated at the front of this archived version). Thank you to Aqualegia for giving this story a quick run through for me.

Bastard! That cancer-ridden bastard!

Alex Krycek looked down at the body lying on the scrubby reservation sand. Part of him wanted to scream out his rage and frustration but the years of pain and humiliation had taught him to hold in check the violence that his body and mind craved. *They* had waited until the last moment... waited until he had almost made contact before killing Dr Sandoz.

How many times had they done this to him? How many more times would he have to look down on a still warm, blood-soaked body that could have held the answers to some of his questions? And why? Why did they wait until he was almost in reach of his goal before pulling the rug from under his feet?

A wry smile lifted one corner of his sensuous mouth. He glanced around wondering if there was a video camera aimed at him, hidden in the darkness beyond. He wouldn't put it pass Spender to have arranged to capture this moment... another reason to keep the darker emotions in check.

Yes, 'why' was an easy question to answer... the pleasure of watching him fail... the pleasure of watching his face crumple in anger or pain or betrayal or merely in pure frustration. Spender had taken a great deal of pleasure at his expense over the years but he had redoubled his efforts to cause Krycek as much frustration as possible following the massacre at El Rico Airbase. Krycek was certain the Smoking Man knew of the part he played in both that gruesome scene and in the subsequent betrayal by his own son, Jeffrey. He wondered why the man had not yet ordered his death but that old adage was true... Revenge is a dish best served cold... and Spender was a vengeful bastard.

Once again he wondered how Cancer Man had managed to elude the fate that befell the rest of the Consortium leaders. He had planned everything so meticulously yet it had still 'gone to hell'. The Rebels had taken the alien fetus, the Colonists had brought forward their invasion plans... and Spender had lived. He sighed. It could have been much worse. He had learned later that Mulder could quite easily have been among the carbonized corpses at the air force base had he not decided to follow a different lead instead.

Mulder... His thoughts drifted back to the University and the barely conscious man he had walked passed on the way to the rooftop meeting with Dr Barnes. Krycek wondered how much Mulder would remember. Would he recall the dark-clad figure that briefly stopped beside him? Would Mulder's heightened telepathic mind have read the thoughts that passed just as quickly through his head... the longing... the urge to drop to his knees beside this man... the desire to pull Mulder into his arms and kiss him? Not a chaste kiss, the brushing of lips upon cheek but a kiss of passion, wanting the pressure of mouth against mouth.

He shook his head. This was neither the time nor the place to worry about those few seconds of unguarded thought but he couldn't help wondering where Mulder was right now... and what he was thinking.

Krycek reached down and picked up the cellphone lying beside the still-warm corpse. He could hear a familiar voice on the other end of the open line... Dana Scully. He cut the connection with a quick flick. This time they had made a mistake. They should have taken out Sandoz long before he got there. Somewhere close by was the killer and with the killer was the fragment of alien hull. He listened carefully to the sounds of the desert.

Movement from the nearby ceremonial hut drew his attention and, like the rat he had been named, he scurried back into the darkness to hunt his prey.

Leaving Mulder behind in that padded cell had been one of the hardest decisions of her life but a necessity if she was to figure out a way to bring him back to her. In the past she would have felt comfortable leaving him in the seemingly safe hands of AD Skinner but now... Dana Scully took a deep breath as she stepped from her rental onto the white sand. Skinner had lied to her. He had revealed information that he could not possibly have obtained except through spying on her and Mulder. How? And more importantly, why? Why had he betrayed them? He'd always seemed such a staunch supporter albeit a silent one. He had turned a blind eye to some of their indiscretions and oiled the wheels when they needed something. So why had he betrayed them now?

Some small part of her believed he had a good reason. Perhaps he was trying to protect them or perhaps he was being coerced. Whatever the case, she would be willing to give him the benefit of the doubt; she would be willing to wait and see.

Then there was Fowley, that bitch from hell. Double-crossing, back-stabbing... Scully drew those thoughts to an abrupt end. She knew Fowley was a Consortium spy - like Ratboy Krycek. If only she could have persuaded Mulder about Fowley, but for someone who thrived on paranoia, he seemed reluctant to denounce Scully's dark-haired rival. Frohike had tried to console her, explaining that Fowley had once been Mrs Fox Mulder. Perhaps the love that had put a ring on her finger had not been completely extinguished. She sighed, pushing back a strand of hair that had flopped over her forehead and into her eyes. If only Mulder would let go of the past then perhaps there would be a chance for *them*.

Scully snorted softly to herself as she strode across the sand towards the small research station. She had fantasized about there being a *them* from very early days but, despite the odd occasion when emotions had run high, he had shown no sexual interest in her. In fact, if she had not been aware of his penchant for porn movies - and that bitch Fowley - she would have thought he preferred the company of men.

A little while later she stood by the shore staring out at an almost impossible sight. The small fragment pointed out to her was but the leading edge of a massive shape submerged beneath the warm blue water. Her gaze remained locked on the structure but her thoughts turned inwards. This was far more than she expected.

What the hell was she going to do now?

-ooOOoo-

The weasel-faced man cowered on his knees before him, and Alex smirked as he decided the man was probably cursing his stupidity for daring to play such a dangerous game with him. The Consortium assassin should have shot Sandoz at the hospital, before Scully turned up and escorted the doctor to the reservation. Certainly, he should never have waited for Alex to catch up with them all, but the man had allowed arrogance and overconfidence in his own abilities to get the better of him.

A dull gleam shone off the long silencer attached to the gun held firmly in the Alex's hand.

"Give me the pieces."

"I don't have them..."

If it was true then where could the man have stashed them? He had heard no-one else, but that didn't mean there was no-one else around. He knew from personal experience that most Consortium assassins worked in pairs. Alex pursed his lips in annoyance, his eyes narrowing to slits as he gazed down at the terrified man. If it was true then he would have to let this man live a little longer - if only so he could extract the location from him.

"...but I can show you where to look."

Alex smiled. Now this was more like it.

"Tell me."

"N-No. I have to show you."

The man climbed to his feet, his body trembling in fear as he turned away, slowly leading them back towards the ceremonial hut. However, he couldn't prevent the fear from loosening his tongue, much to Alex's initial annoyance. Krycek filtered out most of it until a single word penetrated through. Krycek shot out a hand to grab the man's arm, spinning him back around.

"Say that again. About Mulder"

"I-I said it's a shame about that Mulder character... gone crazy you know."

"How do you know about him?"

A new fear crept into the weasel face.

"Just heard things...heard he went nuts. Started ranting about... things. Last I heard they put him in a straitjacket and locked him up on the Psycho ward."

Krycek's eyes widened in shock then narrowed dangerously as anger-driven thoughts went crashing through his brain. Mulder. *His* Mulder. Finally driven insane by the experiments performed upon him since childhood. A soft phut sounded and the weasel-faced man glanced down at his chest in confusion before crumpling to the ground at Krycek's feet. The Russian assassin's eyes followed the body to the desert floor, his own face frozen in shock. He had not even felt his finger tighten on the trigger yet there was no mistaking that the bullet had come from his gun. Alex wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, the gun held loosely between his fingers, and he cursed himself, closing his eyes for a moment to blot out the sight of the dead man. If it wasn't Cancer Man killing people before he got to them then it was Mulder - or thoughts of Mulder - that ruined his plans.

He sighed and slipped the gun into the back waistband of his pants.

Oh well, he thought. As his mother used to say - no use crying over spilled milk.

Krycek knelt down and checked through the man's pockets hoping there might be something there to give him a clue where to look for the artifacts, but he was out of luck. He stood back up and gazed ahead, eyes trying to pierce the darkness but finally, he had to admit that those alien pieces no longer held any real interest to him. Let someone else find them, he had more important matters to attend to now.

With hurried footsteps, Krycek headed back the way he had come.

Thoughts of Fox Mulder filled him as he drove back towards civilization, and the nearest airport. He berated himself softly, in several different languages. Those pieces of alien hull must have triggered a dormant part of Mulder's exceptional brain, that much had been glaringly obvious from what he had seen on the Skinner's surveillance tape, and yet it had not really connected in his own mind until this moment what the full impact would be on Mulder. If Mulder was affected that badly then there could be no doubt that he was one of the hybrids - and if that was true then Mulder was in grave danger. Colonization was about to begin and the Rebels had decided to go for an all-out attack to prevent this from happening - and that meant the destruction of anything connected to the Colonists. Unfortunately, as a hybrid, Mulder might well fall into that category, but Krycek vowed there was no way he was going to let that happen.

When he reached the airport, he dialed the number for his contact within the Rebel resistance, needing to know if there was any sure way he could save Mulder from the coming attack.

The conversation was abrupt but Krycek gained what he sought, confirmation that they would allow Mulder to live, but only if he kept him out of reach of those who would use Mulder to force their hand. It was not a hard decision for him to make as he had no intention of abandoning Mulder to the psychiatric system let alone allowing him to be sacrificed, even if it was to save the world. Mulder was not insane, just temporarily overwhelmed by the vast amount of raw data pouring into his mind.

As to a plan on how he was going to 'rescue' Fox Mulder. Well, he had several hours to work on that on the flight back to Washington.

-ooOOoo-

AD Skinner sat down in front of the small bank of monitors and stared at the quiet figure hunched into the corner of the padded cell. Mulder's head was lowered onto his chest as if in sleep but he looked up suddenly, his eyes burning into the camera lens.

Skinner? I know you're there.

Walter Skinner sat back in shock as he felt the words form in his mind, shaking his head in confusion. He had just about managed to convince himself that he just *thought* he heard Mulder when it came again.

Skinner. You've gotta help me. You've gotta get me out of here.

Skinner stood up and backed away from the monitors. When Mulder started shouting for Scully that time he had put it down to mere coincidence but this... He turned as he heard the click of high heels right behind him, and came face to face with Diana Fowley. Her pretty face was creased, a questioning expression apparent but Skinner had no inclination to share any answers with her. He did not trust this woman. There was something very wrong about her sudden reappearance in Fox Mulder's life at this time. With a half-hearted smile he motioned towards the monitors, deciding to conceal what he had felt only moments before.

"There's no change, although he seems a little more subdued now."

She inclined her head then nodded as if she had taken a moment or two to consider his words before deciding to believe him. No more words passed between them as he brushed past her and stalked into the corridor beyond, leaving her alone to watch the man who was more than just one of his finest agents; Mulder was also a friend.

-ooOOoo-

Slipping into the Neuropsych ward of the Georgetown Memorial Hospital, disguised as an orderly, was surprisingly easy and so long as nobody got close enough to see his fake ID, Krycek knew he was relatively safe from detection.

A familiar figure caught his attention and he swore softly under his breath, ducking into the nearest doorway pulling the door closed behind him. He waited until the stocky frame of AD Skinner had passed and then let himself back out, watching until Skinner had turned the corner at the end of the corridor before letting out the breath he was holding. Despite his current hold on Skinner with the nanocytes, he had no intention of confronting the man; one confrontation in a hospital was already one too many, and he was on his own this time, there was no-one to pin Skinner's arms behind his back, giving him the opportunity to take out all his frustrations on the helpless man. As he walked up the corridor in the opposite direction to that taken by Skinner, Krycek turned his thoughts to the task ahead, silently reflecting on the words spoken by his trainer - Vassily Peskow.

'The art of infiltration is looking as though you belong there. No-one questions somebody purposefully going about their business.'

Over the years he had put that particular advice to good use. He paused by the Nurse's station and flicked through the patient records until he found the one he wanted. A stealthy glance around showed no-one was paying attention to him so he quickly pocketed those sheets of paper and made his way to Mulder's cell. He fumbled with the lock, no longer as quick now he had but one hand, he thoughts turning to Mulder.

Just sit tight, Mulder. I'm gonna get you out of here.

A sense of displaced anger flared through him and then gave way as a new thought, a single name, pushed itself to the front of his brain, but Krycek realised that this thought was not one of his own.

Fowley.

He paused, the crease across the bridge of his nose suddenly very apparent in the reflection from the observation window as he frowned in bewilderment, wondering where the thought had come from, and then full realization hit him. Cancer Man would have sent Fowley to monitor the incapacitated agent and Mulder, in his current condition, would be able to monitor her - and him - but he never expected Mulder to be able to project his thoughts as well as read them. It was something Gibson Praise could never do despite the number of tests they performed on the unfortunate boy. His thoughts returned to Diana Fowley, remembering the way the dark-haired woman had twisted Spender around her finger, suggesting ways of applying the tests on Mulder that had little or no consideration for Mulder himself.

I should have killed that bitch a long time ago.

He 'heard' a laugh inside his head. Not a pleasant sensation of joy but one of resignation and Krycek realised that none of his thoughts were safe from Mulder. He was about to turn away and go in search of Fowley, to put her out of the picture once and for all, when Mulder gave him the all-clear. Krycek's fingers gave a quick twist and the lock clicked open. Moments later he had Mulder released from the straitjacket and carefully following him through the hospital corridors. Krycek led Mulder to a storage room where he had hidden a set of day clothes and they both quickly changed out of their hospital garb.

"I don't expect you to believe me but you'd be safer with me right now."

"You're right. I don't believe you but do you know something else. I don't care. Just get me out of here, Krycek."

Krycek noticed the way Mulder was wincing and realised he was being battered, constantly, by the barrage of human thoughts, his mind defenseless, unable to lock out those around him. Krycek pushed down on his own thoughts, hoping to mute them as he placed a hand under Mulder's elbow to guide him through the crowded waiting room then down a long corridor to the staff exit.

Five minutes later they were driving away, heading out of the city.

-ooOOoo-

They drove for hours, changing cars twice during the long journey and as the city gave way to the suburbs, Mulder felt the pressure inside his head decrease. By the time they reached the Appalachians only two people's thoughts echoed around his head - his own and Krycek's. He slid sideways in the passenger seat so he could stare at the strong profile of the man that had regularly turned his life upside down, easily reading what thoughts flowed through that remarkably intelligent mind.

Remarkably?

He frowned. Why should it be so remarkable that Alexei Krycek was an intelligent man? A simpleton... or even a man of average intelligence would not have survived as long as Krycek had in this business. Of *course* he was intelligent - and beautiful. An incredible combination.

Beautiful? Now where had *that* thought come from?

Mulder studied Krycek closely, for the first time noticing that Krycek still had that stupid-ass haircut, although it was shaved closer at the sides and had grown out a little on top since their ill-fated trip to Tunguska. His eyes followed the curve of Krycek's ear from the fleshy lobe to the almost elfin tip. There was something delicate about his features, something almost effeminate. Krycek's eyes flicked sideways as he sensed the scrutiny and Mulder caught a flash of smoldering green along with a questioning thought before the face turned back to watch the road ahead. Long, thick eyelashes descended momentarily and Mulder suddenly understood why Scully had been jealous. They were so provocative, so enticing, the way they framed those beautiful sea-green eyes. He focused next on those luscious lips, ripe and ready for the taking. Mulder licked his own lips as he watched the tip of a pink tongue sneak out as Krycek concentrated on his driving.

Mulder sat back suddenly as a sense of relief flooded across from the other man.

"Almost there."

"Almost where?"

"You'll see when we get there."

Mulder sighed in exasperation. Being able to read thoughts only worked if the subject *had* thoughts worth reading and so far, Krycek had kept a tight rein on his.

-ooOOoo-

For the most part, Krycek concentrated on the road ahead, refusing to let his thoughts drift in any other direction in case he betrayed himself to the man seated beside him. He had long ago accepted what he felt for Mulder; the desire and the need... not just sexually but in *every* way. If only things had been different between them. If only his choices had not taken them down different paths. Someone had once told him that the end justifies the means, and if only that were true for, somehow, he doubted Mulder could ever understand his reasons for the things he had done. Perhaps, one day, when the Conspiracy and the threat of Colonization was behind them, he might have the chance to explain his part in it all. Perhaps...

-ooOOoo-

Krycek took a sudden left onto an overgrown track, surprising Mulder who had not seen any indication of a turning. It soon became very obvious why Krycek had chosen to pick up a 4 wheel drive at the last change over as the ride was bumpy, the shocks and the seat-belt barely managing to stop him being thrown from side to side. Another half an hour of dips and bumps passed before the car eased into a large clearing.

A small cabin was nestled against the trees at the edge of the clearing, it's rustic appearance successfully allowing it to merge into the tree line. Neither man moved as the car pulled to a halt, waiting for the other to do something first. In the end it was Krycek who stepped out of the car, waiting for Mulder to join him. He threw out his hand, expansively, to encompass the surroundings.

"Welcome to your new home... at least for a while."

Mulder frowned as his mind caught a tendril of another thought and the strong emotion accompanying it, but both were quickly squashed by their owner. He stared at Krycek, who had closed his eyes to help reinforce the wall he was trying to throw up in his mind. Mulder smiled; a predator smile. He had sensed this same emotion before on the stairwell of the University but had considered it just a product of the overload that had floored him. Now he knew for sure that Alexei Krycek, super rat, had been there. His smile faltered as he realised something else; Krycek *wanted* him, wanted to make love to him. He tried to dredge up anger and disgust but both were strangely missing. Confused, he turned away from the closed face and headed for the cabin.

-ooOOoo-

"Where is Mr Mulder?"

"I have no idea."

CBG Spender sucked deeply on the cigarette and exhaled a stream of blue smoke directly into Skinner's face. "I am not a patient man, Mr Skinner. I *know* you were passing information onto Alex Krycek--"

"Prove it--"

"--and the monitors show quite clearly who freed Mulder from his room."

"It means nothing... except that Alex Krycek has taken a sectioned patient from the hospital without permission from either the Doctors or the man's family."

Walter Skinner waited while Cancer Man digested that piece of information. The sour look on the Smoker's face told him that he had won this round. He watched as Spender turned on his heel and walked towards the door of his office, but Spender paused on the threshold.

"If you change your mind you know where to reach me."

Skinner mumbled under his breath at the departing figure, "you have to have the last word."

He sank back into his chair and pondered the enigma that was Alex Krycek. On the one hand he hated the bastard; the betrayal, the beating - the way he had callously killed him with the nanotechnology only to bring him back to life for his own ends. He hated Krycek for forcing him to betray Scully and Mulder... spying on them, hindering their investigation into the strange artefacts. He pulled his glasses away and rubbed a hand across his face as the beginnings of a massive headache formed behind his eyes.

On the other hand - a vicious thought crossed his mind that at least *he* still had two hands.

On the other hand Krycek had freed Mulder from that padded cell. He paused on that thought, wondering why that should be a plus in Krycek's favour considering what the ex-Consortium assassin had done to both him and Mulder in the past. For all he knew Krycek had some ulterior motive for freeing Mulder that would have little benefit to anyone but Krycek himself, and certainly not to Mulder. He frowned as the headache increased. So why did he believe Krycek's actions were in Mulder's best interest?

Then it occurred to him that Krycek had never done anything to hurt Fox Mulder. To hinder, yes. To mislead, yes. But to hurt? Hell, the man even allowed himself to be used as a punch bag whenever his and Mulder's paths crossed.

Skinner leaned forward in his chair, his finger stabbing at the intercom as he paged his secretary.

"Kimberley, I want Agents Markham and Ribaldi in my office immediately."

He sat back and waited. Markham and Ribaldi were good agents. He would assign them to search for Fox Mulder and Alexei Krycek.

-ooOOoo-

It did not take long to get a fire going and both men sank into the surprisingly comfortable chairs ranged around it, both deep in thought. Mulder's thoughts revolved around the man seated close by as he watched the fire-lit face, trying to snatch the half-formed thoughts as they were quickly pushed back into the recesses of that quicksilver mind. He smirked, enjoying his new skill as he probed deeper; Krycek was trying to hide his thoughts by focusing on the domestic issues.

How much wood have we got? How much food? I need to check. What shall I cook for dinner? Where are we gonna sleep tonight... Whoa... back off, food. What about dinner? Think of dinner. Don't think about sleeping here in this cabin so close to...

Krycek jumped to his feet in agitation, the blood rising to his face and, from the bulge in his pants, dropping to his groin at the same time.

"I'm gonna get some more wood before it gets dark."

As he hurried off through the small kitchen Mulder could hear him wondering what Mulder's telepathic range was... or if the man was even still receptive to thoughts now they were so far away from the artifacts.

How the hell am I gonna gauge that? He's hardly likely to say 'Hey, Krycek, I can't hear you any more'.

Mulder had smiled as he watched his agitated ex-partner practically run from the room. He heard the outer door slam shut and turned back to the fire, his eyes watching the dancing flames even as his mind turned outward to catch the trickle of thoughts that still bled from Krycek. Although the thoughts grew fainter, the emotions were still there but muted. He could feel the frustration and the fear; the knowledge that he was the cause of this giving him an even deeper thrill. This was the ultimate in voyeurism.

About ten minutes passed by with the feelings becoming more and more faint.

"Oh no you don't."

Mulder spoke softly to Alex Krycek even though he knew the man was out of reach. In just a few short hours he had become addicted to the whispers that stripped away the loneliness; a loneliness he never realised existed within him until now. Swiftly, he rose to his feet and followed the hazy mind, each step making the thoughts and emotions stronger and clearer until...

Mulder stopped dead, his mouth dropping open in shocked realization. He glanced back towards the cabin, half-turning with the intention of going back but the sensations echoing around his mind were like a siren call. He took a few more steps and, taking care to remain hidden, he looked through the trees until he caught sight of...

So beautiful.

Alex was kneeling in a tiny clearing, surrounded by the soft glow of moon and starlight, the hazy beams reflecting off his ivory skin. The muscular thigh, soft curve of ass... the hollow of back as he arched upwards, head thrown back, the long arc of neck and vulnerable throat were exposed. Short gasps and moans sighed on the gentle night breeze, starlight reflecting off perfect white teeth as his hand moved slowly up and down the tumescent shaft. Mulder watched, mesmerized by the fingers that squeezed gently, the thumb stroking across the sensitive head with each stroke, spreading dew drops of precome. He closed his eyes for a moment, caught up in the sensations leaking across from the clearing, feeling his own passion rise in response, desperately wishing those slender fingers were wrapped around his own engorged flesh.

Mulder's hand lowered the zip and slipped inside his jeans and he began to stroke himself in rhythm with the heady sensations that rippled through to his soul. The soft cry that fell from Alex's lips was so far in contrast to the scream and the violence that ripped through his mind, taking him over the edge even as he watched the spurts of come slicking over the agile fingers and splattering across the taut abdomen. His own voice caught on a single word whispered into the breeze.

It was only as he relaxed into the afterglow that he realised Alex's soft cry was a name; *his* name. Various emotions chased through him; some were his own, some were from Alex but the blackest were his own. Guilt... and loathing. Not for the way he had been mesmerized by the sheer beauty of the other man; not even for the pleasure he had felt as he worshiped that beauty from afar. No. The guilt was for the way he had used this gift, treating Alex Krycek like a piece of his porn collection, avariciously feeding on the emotions... raping Alex Krycek mentally. With trembling hands he tidied himself and fled back to the cabin as swiftly and quietly as he could, hoping Alex had not seen or felt his presence.

-ooOOoo-

In the small clearing Alex smiled in complete contentment. When he left the cabin the intention was to go somewhere as far from Mulder as possible and to jerk off hard and fast, hoping this would be enough to dampen the lust that flickered around the edges of his mind whenever he looked at Mulder. Instead it had been glorious. The gentle breeze stirring his hair, warm enough to caress his skin like a lover's breath. The moonlight had turned the clearing into an enchanted glen and he had felt invincible as he opened his mind and heart to free the desire. He stretched, catlike, remembering the moment of annihilation where he could almost believe he heard Mulder call *his* name even as he sobbed out the other's.

With a soft sound of self-rebuke he pulled his clothes back on. He took a moment to glance up into the starlit sky, the bright points of distant stars and galaxies easily visible now he was out of the smog-filled city. The gibbous moon hung heavy in the night, casting its golden glow across the small clearing, darkening the shadows around him but Alex felt no fear.

He wished he could have shared this moment with Mulder, wished he could have felt those long fingers rather than his own caressing his flesh but it was not likely to ever happen. He sighed knowing that he could not afford to leave Mulder alone for much longer; his peaceful interlude at an end. With heavy footsteps, and a heavier heart, he headed back to the cabin.

-ooOOoo-

Scully looked around at all the activity not surprised that word had leaked out. Something like this was next to impossible to conceal. Around her she could hear dozens of different accents and languages as academics, archaeologists and Ufologists argued and crowed and crowded around the small inlet to study the unique artifact partially hidden beneath the shifting sand, as the tide crashed softly against the sandy beach. The cacophony of voices was almost unbearable and, for one moment, Dana Scully fully understood what had driven her partner insane. A new sound distracted her.

"Miss Scully. Agent Scully."

"Yes."

"Telephone call from an AD Skinner."

Her heart suddenly leaped up into her throat and she swiftly made her way to the small tent that housed the field telephone.

"Scully."

"Agent Scully. I have some distressing news regarding Agent Mulder."

"What's happened?"

"Alex Krycek..."

A feeling of dread curled in the pit of her stomach. "Is he dead?"

"What?"

"Has that bastard killed Mulder?"

"No... no. Alex Krycek has kidnapped Agent Mulder from the hospital."

Scully closed her eyes, swallowing heavily in relief. Perhaps there was hope yet.

"I'm on my way back."

-ooOOoo-

Mulder found it hard to look Alex Krycek in the eye when the other re-entered the cabin carrying an armful of freshly chopped logs. He gave a sideways glance as Krycek dropped the logs onto the pile next to the fire, unable to resist the temptation to watch the play of thigh and ass muscles beneath the tight fitting jeans, his mind flowing back to that stunning vision in the clearing. He swallowed hard and glanced away when he sensed the query rippling through the other man's mind. A moment passed in silence and then Mulder heard that soft voice again.

"I'll go get us some dinner."

"Krycek?" He sensed rather than saw the other man pause in the doorway to the kitchen. "Why am I here?"

He 'heard' Krycek start and abandon several thoughts before settling for one.

"To keep you safe."

"Safe from whom?"

Spender.

Mulder paused, eyes locking with the wide, sea-green gaze of his ex-partner. Mulder knew it was not thoughts of Jeffrey Spender that had breached the wall in Krycek's head. He frowned. No place on Earth would be safe for Alex if he had interfered with Cancer Man's plans once more, so why had he placed himself in danger?

"Okay. Let's rephrase the question. Why are *you* here?"

Krycek smiled, that bitter sweet half smile that said everything and nothing.

"To keep you safe."

Mulder closed his eyes in frustration for a moment and then directed his whole mind towards the other man. No matter how hard he tried, Krycek could not stop the strong emotions he felt for Mulder bleeding through the holes in the mental wall he had built. All Mulder had to do was convince him to let go, to release them. He sniffed in exasperation and decided to give up for now, fixing Alex with a dead-pan expression.

"Kunpo chicken with egg-fried rice."

The smile that crinkled up the edges of those beautiful eyes was worth the descent into levity.

"You *always* order that Mulder. For someone in your line of work you can be very... unadventurous."

"I just know what I like."

He let a little of the desire he felt for Alex bleed across, not enough to convince Alex but enough to remove the smirk from the younger man's face. His own smile broadened as Krycek turned away looking strangely agitated.

Mind-fucking Krycek was a hell of a lot more satisfying than beating him to a pulp.

-ooOOoo-

Markham and Ribaldi wound and rewound the tapes from the hospital security cameras, hoping something would appear out of nowhere.

"There."

Ribaldi pointed to the two hazy figures dressed in jeans and t-shirts diagonally crossing the far left of the screen in the distance. Markham squinted.

"Could be. What is that corridor?"

The video from the staff car park gave them the starting point they needed as they watched one dark-clad figure help the second into the passenger seat before moving round to the driver's seat. They made a note of the car make and model before contacting the FBI Headquarters. Moments later they had the next lead. An abandoned car just south of the freeway matching the description of this one.

The hunt was on.

-ooOOoo-

Smoke curled up from the chair facing away from the door but Diana Fowley would know this arrogance was not overconfidence. CGB Spender had spent too many decades in this business. He knew when he needed to protect his back... and when others would protect it for him. A movement within the deeper shadows of the darkened room revealed the presence of at least one of Spender's hired operatives but she ignored this man and stepped around the chair to face her employer; the one her ex-husband had labeled Cancer Man.

"He placed Agents Ribaldi and Markham on the case."

Spender sucked on the ever present cigarette, drawing the nicotine and tar deep into his lungs before exhaling slowly; a smile curling his seamed lips. So predictable, he thought smugly.

"And Agent Ribaldi will, no doubt, keep us informed of their progress."

A statement of fact but Fowley nodded anyway, seemingly impressed by the way Spender had managed to stay two steps ahead of Skinner. No-one would ever guess that Ribaldi had a dirty little secret that had placed him securely in the Consortium's hands, and even though the majority of the leaders were now dead, the reins were still held tightly.

Spender sighed. If it wasn't for Mulder's importance as a link between the Colonists and Humanity then he would have been content to let the pair of them go. His biological son... and his surrogate son. A beautiful combination.

Spender had to admit, privately to himself, that Alex Krycek had actually done him a great favor when he orchestrated the El Rico massacre. He had always known that it was the First Elder who had arranged the unsuccessful assassination attempt on himself and felt slightly vindicated that it was his own erstwhile protégé who had evened that particular score. He pursed his lips in thought. It was only that Alex had expected him to die with the rest of them that tainted his opinion of the younger man but then, perhaps that was justifiable payback for his own attempt on the Russian's life. Strange how both attempts had failed. Both of them responding to that sixth sense kicking in to warn them of danger. Alex had escaped from a car bomb with only seconds to spare, he had escaped *in* a car with only seconds to spare. The small smile flickering about his lips grew larger. Life was certainly more interesting when Alexei Krycek was around.

For a moment, Spender wished his other son, Jeffrey, had lived up to his expectations. That final act of rebellion had earned young Jeffrey a severe reprimand and even now, Spender wondered whether he had been too easy on him, dropping his aim to gut-shot the boy. Jeffrey had spent the last few months in a private sanatorium, in agony, as his body slowly healed. In time he would be strong again and, hopefully, he would have learned a valuable lesson about loyalty. Still, Spender wondered what had turned his seemingly spineless child against him, not truly understanding the love his son had felt for his mother, Cassandra - and the subtle manipulation of a certain dark-haired assassin.

His thoughts were interrupted.

"Skinner informed Agent Scully of Mulder's abduction. She's on her way back."

He lifted a glass of scotch and took a sip of the fiery amber liquid as he digested this latest piece of information. Scully was his greatest failure. The Englishman had sent her in to keep tabs on Mulder after the marriage to Fowley had broken up, but the diminutive redhead had proved herself to possess far more intelligence and integrity than previously credited. With her by his side, Mulder had become an even greater threat. She stabilized him, curbing the worst of his excesses and eccentricities; helping him to narrow his focus to almost pinpoint accuracy.

Spender wondered if Alex Krycek would ever realize that the reason his cover with Mulder was deliberately blown was because he had filled Scully's shoes far too well. They had thought to replace Scully with a fresh-faced Quantico graduate who would hinder Mulder but, by the end of the Augustus Cole case, they knew they had made a mistake. Mulder and Krycek had the capability of becoming a formidable team, maybe more so than the Mulder and Scully combination for, although Dana Scully was scientifically brilliant, she was also a non-believer. Alex Krycek, on the other hand, was far more open-minded... and far more intelligent than he let on.

Spender took another drag from the cigarette feeling strangely detached from his surroundings. His main problem, at this moment, was the imminent start to Colonization. Uncovering the downed UFO off the African coast was a major disaster. One that both his people and the Rebel Aliens, through Alex Krycek, had tried to avoid but it was too late. Pictures were being flashed around the globe on every news program. The question 'Are We Alone?' had been answered and, in doing so, it had sealed the fate of humanity. Within a few days Earth would fall to the Colonists and only the hybrids and a chosen few would survive the Armageddon. Spender intended to be one of those chosen few, but that meant finding his son, Fox William Mulder, and using him to barter for his own continued existence.

-ooOOoo-

Mulder's dream was full of strange symbols and images. Bees swarmed about with an almost preternatural intelligence, singling out those who would feel their sting. He saw these people fall to the ground, their bodies breaking out in oozing sores. Moments later he was standing high on a cliff top watching the sun set over the sea; the brilliant red of the sky reflecting in the still waters making it seem as though it was a sea of blood. Along the shoreline stretched miles of bloated corpses; fish, marine birds, seals, whales... humans. It was if every living creature that had lived in or upon the sea had died and been washed ashore.

Mulder awoke with a start, echoes of the nightmare still gripping him. He staggered to his feet and made his way to the small wash basin, reaching out to turn on the faucet. The whole assembly juddered and Mulder smacked the faucet with the side of his hand. A sudden spurt of liquid sent him jumping back. It was reddish brown... like blood.

The Seven Vials.

With a sharp intake of breath Mulder opened his eyes, quickly realizing that he was still in the oversize bed Alex had shown him to the previous evening. With some trepidation he pushed back the covers and approached the small wash basin. Turning the faucet Mulder sighed in relief as clear liquid flowed into the basin below. It was all just a terrible dream.

Or a premonition.

"The Seven Vials"

His own voice sounded strange to him.

"Seven what?"

Mulder jumped. He had been concentrating so hard on remembering the dream that he had not even noticed the whisper of Krycek's mind as the man entered the room behind him. Mulder turned to face the intruder.

"Don't you ever knock?"

"Didn't think I'd need to, seeing how you can read my mind." Krycek glanced at Mulder, head cocked slightly to one side. "You *can* still read my mind?"

Mulder caught a tendril of mental supplication as Krycek earnestly hoped Mulder had lost the ability to read thoughts... *his* thoughts.

"Praying to any particular deity?"

Those beautiful green eyes closed momentarily as Krycek pulled the shutters down to try and control any wayward thoughts, but Mulder easily read the fear that surged through Krycek's mind, fear that Mulder would recognize the longing and the desire, afraid this would send Mulder running from him in disgust. A single thought escaped, the image of his own face in beautiful disarray, bleeding from Krycek's mind.

If only the man didn't look so...

Krycek's eyes widened in horror as he viciously pushed the desire as deep as possible. Color rushed into his cheeks and, as he quickly scurried out of Mulder's view, Alex missed the smirk that curled up the edges of Mulder's mouth.

Mulder laughed out loud as Alex practically ran from the cabin. The laugh and the smirk faded with the realization that it was Alex who had run away from him in self-disgust. He sank down onto the bed, his mind turning inwards to follow the ever-fading path of Alex's thoughts. This was ludicrous. He was the one who ought to be feeling the disgust. He was the one who ought to be running away but instead... instead he played games, power games, using his newfound ability to make Alex ill at ease when all he really wanted was to put the man at ease.

The image of that beautiful moonlit body came back to haunt him. He heard again the echo of his name spilling from those perfect lips; a soft sigh upon the breeze. He wanted to hear that sigh again, to witness those kiss-softened lips caressing his name. He wanted to touch the ivory skin, skim his fingers across star-kissed flesh. He wanted to breath in his scent, strong with the musk of pure sex. Mulder wanted to taste the essence of Alex Krycek, from the sweetness of mouth, to the saltiness of sweat, to the bitterness of that ultimate release.

These new thoughts struck Mulder as very odd, especially as he had never entertained thoughts of himself with Alex before seeing that naked, moonlit body.

Or had he?

Mulder turned his incisive mind in on itself and realised he had been fooling himself all this time, his fists becoming an excuse for touching, his harsh words an reason for hearing that soft, husky voice in retort.

How long has this been true?

He probed deeper inside his own mind, dragging out memories that he had buried, analyzing them with a ruthlessness that left himself cringing. It became all too apparent that his attraction to Alex Krycek has started the first time their eyes had met, although he had been too full of his own self-pity and bruised ego to notice what his body was telling him. Attraction had turned to admiration, then to love, long before that original betrayal.

But I don't love you now.

Despite his internal protests to the contrary, love had not turned to hate; it had not died. He had buried it, alive and kicking, deep within his psyche and it had surfaced every time he met up with Alex, demanding its due, needing to touch and to hold the one being that meant everything to him, but the only outlet Mulder had allowed that love was fists and barbed comments.

It doesn't have to be this way.

The telepathy seemed to have opened his mind in more ways than the one intended. Feeling and reading the emotions and thoughts that poured from Alex, despite Alex's attempts to build walls, had allowed those deeply buried emotions of his own to dig their way back to the surface and, this time, Mulder had no intention of letting them slide back into the recesses of his mind. This time he wanted to be kind to himself, to allow himself the opportunity of denying nothing. He wanted to grasp at the one thing he had spent his entire life hiding from. He wanted to know real love - and that meant finding a way to reach Alex.

Mulder knew that he could have that beautiful body just for the asking, but Alex was no two-bit whore to be bought, used and discarded. Mulder knew he wanted more than that. He wanted to feel the pleasure of loving and being loved, and he wanted him for a lifetime.

He sighed, wishing things had been different between them. Perhaps if Alex had not killed his father, or betrayed him, or if he had not allowed them to take Scully? But Mulder could not change the past, but he was uncertain wherever he could live with that past either.

Through the open curtains Mulder could see that the moon was lying low in the sky, but instead of focusing on its beauty, he remembered how it had looked many hours earlier, reflected off of that perfect ivory skin.

-ooOOoo-

They ate in what ought to have been silence but Alex had taken to singing songs over and over in his head to drown out all other thought - and it was driving Mulder nuts. Eventually he had enough of it and stalked off to his own room to try and gain a little more sleep. His earlier attempt to rest had failed miserably, his head full of the strangest images of boils and blood.

The dream, when it came, was of sunlight: intense sunlight. Charred remains littered the baked earth, and the bones of others were bleached white by the fierceness of the enlarged sun. The survivors were huddling in the shadows, their bodies burned, eyes blinded by the terrible light bringing eternal darkness upon them. They cried out in their pain and thirst, chewing on their own tongues, their lips cracked and bleeding. The seas boiled and the waters of great rivers dried up leaving the Earth covered in a single desert that stretched to the four corners of the world.

Mulder sat up with a cry of despair falling from his lips, cursing the photographic memory that had dredged up these images from the depths of his fertile imagination, mixed in with the text of Revelations. He knew what had triggered the nightmare, the writing on the alien artifact that Albert Hosteen had started to translate just prior to succumbing to his cancer. Mulder had read it all in Scully's mind when she came to see him at the hospital.

Genesis and Revelations; the beginning and the end of the world.

"You okay?"

Mulder squinted as light from the hallway flooded into his room, he could see the strong, one-armed figure silhouetted by the light, his own mind supplying the features of the angelic face. Mulder swallowed hard, easily reading the concern emanating from the dark figure.

"I have to know what you're not telling me."

Concern was replaced by indecision as thoughts flitted through the quicksilver mind, dazzling Mulder with their intensity. He knew Alex desired him but it had never occurred to him until now that Alex might also be in love with him, and the thought stopped Mulder in his tracks.

How long have you loved me?

The thought went flying through his head bringing memories crashing down on him. he recalled the way Alex would look at him when they were partners, the way Alex would reach out and touch him on any pretext; a brush of fingers as they passed files, a hand on his arm to attract his attention. Time moved forward and he watched as his fists connected with the firm body, pummeling into the handsome face, blows landing on the soft abdomen and, through it all, Alex had offered little resistance, barely more than defensive gestures, accepting the blows without full retaliation. Mulder realised he had never stopped to consider how he could have been so victorious over the younger, well built and well-trained man especially when he remembered the ease by which Alex had knocked him down that night in his apartment - with one hand.

Some of what he was recalling must have either bled through this strange telepathic connection or been obvious on his face for Alex turned pale, the blood draining from his face. Mulder watched as the younger man started to shake, eyes darting around in fear, frozen in a moment of indecision of fight or flight. Mulder could sense Alex trying to shutter all the thoughts and his heart ached at the pain he saw cross the angelic features.

Do you fear me so much, Alex?

"I-I've gotta..."

"Alex? Stay."

Mulder rose from the bed and took a few hesitant steps towards the frightened man. He held out his hand, eyes intently focused on Alex, and let the emotions he had held in check for so long glide over him, flowing out and wrapping themselves around the forlorn figure.

He saw the fear drain from those soft green eyes, replaced by confusion, by disbelief. Mulder took another step forward, then another, gradually closing the distance between them until he could touch the softly parted lips with his finger tips. Alex closed his eyes and Mulder could feel the slight tremor that shook the lean frame as his fingers traced the shape of that beautiful mouth, dipping into the Cupid's bow, dragging along the luscious bottom lip. Mulder took a final step forward, his other hand reaching out cup the back of Alex's head, fingers drifting through the short dark strands of mahogany. He drew Alex towards him, met him halfway, their lips barely touching. Mulder tilted his head further, pressed forward and deepened their first kiss, the tip of his tongue teasing along their joining, gently asking for permission to explore the world lying before it. A soft moan reverberated between them, warm breath filling his own mouth as Alex sighed his acceptance.

A single hand pulled Mulder against the firm body, pressing them together from chest to thigh. He could feel the physical evidence of Alex's passion hard against his abdomen, his own engorged flesh caught between their close-pressed bodies.

No spoken words passed between them when Mulder drew back, none were needed as Mulder allowed all of his passion to flow directly into Alex, gasping when the fiery emotions, held so tightly through the years, were reflected back in equal measure.

Clothes were discarded, falling to the floor in untidy heaps, unheeded as Mulder kissed and caressed every inch of revealed flesh. They fell backwards onto the bed, Mulder's weight trapping the younger man beneath him as he continued his oral assault on the warm flesh. He swirled his tongue over one stiffened nipple, then bit down hard, hearing a cry of pain and pleasure intermingled. He swiped over the tightened bud once more before moving slowly down the body, licking and biting, tongue dipping into the indentation of navel before trailing down, swathing a path through the dark hairs that led to the base of the proud shaft.

Alex moaned as Mulder made no attempt to touch his hardened flesh with tongue or hand, feeling the sensations skitter through him as it was nudged aside by Mulder's slightly stubbled cheek. He grabbed at Mulder's chestnut hair, clenching his fist around the long strands that cascaded over the tall forehead, desperately wanting to push that face into his groin, to feel that rough tongue climb the length of him before he was swallowed by that luscious mouth.

He cried out when Mulder gave him what he wanted, forgetful of the telepathy that had sent his every thought blazing into Mulder's mind. Alex knew he was losing control, he had wanted this for so long, for too long, unable to stop himself from bucking up into the wet heat that surrounded him. A hand coaxed his legs apart, long fingers trailing down his tightened sac, then further back, circling the small ring of muscle, teasing the sensitive flesh before dipping inside. Alex relaxed, opening himself willingly to the invader, gasping as that finger rubbed against his prostate, sending ripples of pure ecstasy flowing through him.

"Mulder? Mulder... I can't..."

He tried to pull Mulder away as his balls tightened, unable to control the warmth building deep inside that spread like wildfire, igniting his nerve endings - and he came, his seed jetting into the welcoming mouth.

"Mulder!"

His scream of pleasure echoed through both their minds, reverberating around the room as Alex collapsed into a boneless heap beneath his lover. He had no strength to fight as he was flipped onto this stomach, his hips drawn back. He felt something blunt nudge at the entrance to his body and cried out as the muscle was breached by the thick head of Mulder's cock. Saliva and some of his own spilled seed eased the passage into his body as Mulder rocked into him, his shaft sinking deeper with every thrust. Droplets of hot sweat dripped onto his own sweat-sheened back as Mulder found a rhythm, his hands holding Alex steady as he plunged in and out. Mulder slammed in hard, froze for a moment, the whisper falling from his lips strangely at odds with the scream from his mind as he spoke a single word.

"Alex."

They lay in a heap for several minutes, breathing ragged, limbs heavy, before Alex had the strength to shift Mulder to one side. Mulder fell onto his back and Alex curled up by his side, head pillowed on Mulder's shoulder. He closed his eyes and smiled, fully satiated and content as a hand carded through his hair before gently stroking his cheek.

"I'm sorry."

Alex opened one eye, confused and a little worried. Was Mulder regretting what they had just done?

"No! No regrets, Alex. Except for not realizing how you felt about me. How I felt about you."

"Then why are you sorry?"

"For not believing you. For not believing *in* you."

Alex nodded, still a little confused with Mulder's sudden acceptance of everything, but he was not going to analyse his good change of fortune.

"It's water under the bridge, Mulder."

"You really are Russian."

Alex felt loved as the smile within his lover's mind seeped into his own, feeling a warmth spreading through him that had little to do with sex or the temperature of the room. It was purely mental warmth, easing aside the coldness of the past years, leaving him basking in its glory.

The rest of the night passed in outward silence but inwardly they wrapped each other in warm thoughts; offering, sharing and healing the hurts of the past. Questions were asked and answers given without censure as Mulder discovered the true depth of Alex's feelings for him and, in doing so, discovered the depths of his own feelings in return.

They made love several more times, slowly but passionately, clinging to each other as the sensations rippled through them: mind, body and soul.

When morning came they were still wrapped in each other's arms, legs tangled together possessively. Alex moaned appreciatively when Mulder nuzzled against his hair, kissing him on the temple. He stretched, feeling far better than he had for a long time. His body was still tingling with the after effects of their lovemaking.

"Good morning."

He smiled at Mulder, loving the way Mulder's hair was standing in all directions. He watched as Mulder rolled out of bed, feeling the warm glow of Mulder's mind within his own.

The rest of their morning seemed so domesticated, and so very different to that first day. The awkward silences were gone and they took every opportunity to touch. Alex smiled when Mulder came up behind him for the third time that hour, wrapping his lanky frame around him in an affectionate hug. He could sense the pleasure it gave Mulder through that strange link, but he knew they had both been starved of affection for so long that every touch was something special, to be savored and enjoyed.

The sound of cars approaching made Alex straighten in Mulder's arms.

"Can you sense who it is?"

"Spender. Fowley. And they're not alone."

Mulder could feel the anxiety building in Alex and he remembered Alex's earlier words, that he was trying to protect him from Spender. What Mulder had never managed to discover was why, and now there was little time to extract that information - unless...

"I have to know, Alex. Why am I here? Why do I need to be kept safe from Spender?"

"There's no time to explain. We have to go before..."

"Go where, Alex?"

Alex froze as the bulky frame of the Bounty Hunter filled the doorway, suddenly aware that this was one mind that Mulder had neither read nor sensed. Alex grabbed Mulder and pulled him back, his eyes darting around the room for something he could use as a weapon.

Through the kitchen window Alex could see the familiar forms of Spender and Diana Fowley walking slowly but purposefully towards the small cabin, two of Spender's goons striding ahead of the pair. Alex turned to Mulder, his heart heavy with regret for all the time they had lost in the past, and for the loss of any future they may have had. He jumped when he heard the swish of a plam springing open, his eyes meeting and holding Mulder's for one moment before dropping to the weapon held so casually in his lover's hand.

The Bounty Hunter paused, eyeing the lethal weapon held so confidently, and Alex could almost see the thoughts that must have been passing through the alien's mind. Could he wrestle the weapon from Mulder's grip without hurting Mulder? The answer became superfluous as the sound of several more vehicles approaching caught everyone's attention. Mulder grinned.

"Cavalry's arrived. Scully... and Skinner. And two others. Federal agents."

The Bounty Hunter lunged forward, sweeping Alex aside with ease, and Alex felt his head crack painfully against the wall, sending his vision spinning. He tried to regain his balance, cursing anew the loss of his left arm as he struggled back to his feet. Mulder had managed to keep the alien bounty hunter at arm's length and Alex positioned himself ready to attack. If he could divert the alien's attention then, just maybe, it would give Mulder the edge he needed to stick the creature where it really hurt - in the back of its thick neck.

His opportunity was lost when the retort of a gun filled the room followed instantaneously by a burning sensation in his left shoulder. Alex fell, hearing a scream of denial falling from Mulder's lips even as the cry echoed through his mind. He looked down at his right hand that was pressed against his shoulder, seeing the red blossoming through his t-shirt, trickling through his fingers. Grimly, he held onto consciousness, hearing the sound of Scully's voice raised in warning, before another volley of shots were fired. A body fell over his legs, the sightless eyes of Diana Fowley staring back at him as he gazed down in his own agony.

Skinner cried out as a bullet grazed his arm, a bullet from his gun finding the unexpected assailant; Agent Ribaldi fell dead to the floor.

"Mulder!"

Alex's voice was so weak but he had to alert Scully and Skinner to the fact that Mulder was being forced from the cabin by the Bounty Hunter, with Spender hard on their heels. Flames erupted outside, a high-pitched scream of agony freezing everyone. A human torch reeled into the kitchen and flames burst into life wherever the figure touched. Another figure followed him in, a burly man with no face who carried a metal rod in one hand.

"No!!"

Alex cried out, unable to feel the presence of Fox Mulder in his mind and assuming the worst. The Rebels had said Mulder could live only so long as he would not be used against them. Alex felt the weight of Fowley's dead body being rolled from his legs. He cried out again, in pain, when Skinner hauled him over one broad shoulder, carrying him quickly out of the burning cabin just a few long strides ahead of the rebel soldier.

The ground began to shake violently and Skinner went crashing down, unable to stay standing. Alex cried out as he hit the ground hard, rolling over several times as the earth shook beneath them. He could see Scully crawling towards them, saw a fissure open up beside her and thought she would tumble into it but, suddenly, Skinner was there, grasping her hand and pulling her to relative safety. Alex tried to crawl back towards the burning cabin, ignoring the rebel soldier who had fallen to the ground nearby. He had to find Mulder, not wanting to believe they would have incinerated him.

The shaking ended as suddenly as it had begun, the reason very clear as they watched a massive Colonist mothership climb into the sky, pushing through the atmosphere. The sky was lit up, slashes of red and gold light zapping across the azure blue, striking the mothership over and over. It continued to climb, growing smaller until it was little more than a dot, the lightning flashes faded away with it. A blinding flash filled the sky, slowly dissipating. Moments later the earth shook again as it was pummeled by falling debris from the destroyed mothership. After what seemed to be an eternity all was still once more.

When Alex looked back up he realised the rebel soldier had gone. He struggled to his feet, ignoring the pain.

"Mulder!"

Alex weaved towards the cabin, blood dripping down the remnants of his left arm leaving droplets in the dirt behind him. Skinner caught up with him and grabbed his good arm. He tried to shrug him off, desperate to reach the other side of the cabin and yet terrified of what he would find. Skinner decided to stop fighting him, and Alex staggered off, rounding the corner to come face to face with his worst nightmare; the charred remains of what had once been several human beings.

Alex fell to his knees, eyes closing, unaware of the keening cry that started to fall from his lips. Scully dropped down beside him, her own face ashen with shock as she allowed her worst scenario to overcome her. Her arms closed about him, the shock of their grief for the man they had both loved uniting them at last. Alex was hardly even aware when Skinner dropped down beside them, one hand placed upon each of them in unspoken sorrow.

Alex had no idea how long they stayed that way but, suddenly, there was a prickle at the back of his mind that made him fall silent. He focused in on that strange yet familiar feeling, sensing it growing stronger with each passing second. He opened his eyes wide, staring directly ahead into the forest then quickly leaped to his feet, running headlong into the dense foliage. Skinner and Scully started after him. He stumbled over a root, falling heavily but pushed back onto his feet, shaking off the hands that grabbed for him as they tried to impede his flight.

"Mulder!"

Alex!

The beloved voice echoed through him and he sobbed in relief when, moments later, Mulder appeared on the other side of a small clearing, disheveled but still beautiful in Alex's eyes. The distance between them closed quickly, then they were falling into each other's embrace.

"You've been shot!"

Mulder laid Alex down, his hazel eyes beseeching Scully to help him, and he held on tight to his lover as Scully pushed aside Alex's t-shirt.

"Sir! Can you get my medikit from the car?"

"Be better if we carried him back to the car."

Skinner made to pick Alex up and found himself facing off a possessive Mulder. He stood back, hands raised defensively, and watched as Mulder settled Alex into his arms then strode off towards the cabin without a backwards glance.

-ooOOoo-

Alex blinked, his eyes misting as the glare of daylight stabbed into him. He recognized the nondescript interior of a hospital room, with its pale-colored, insipid walls. A splash of colour brightened the bedside cabinet and he frowned, wondering who would bring him flowers. His head turned on the pillow and he sighed in exasperation when he found Mulder fast asleep in the chair beside him, his head pillowed in his arms on the bed. Alex reached out and let his fingers drift through the strands of chestnut hair. He felt a warm, fuzzy sensation drift across from Mulder's mind, recognized it as being the blurred, hazy edges of a dream; a pleasant dream.

Mulder took a deep breath and sighed, his eyes flickering open, smiling at the severe expression on Alex's face. He remembered the last thing they spoke of before Alex was taken into surgery, and he could hear the words in Alex's head long before Alex opened his mouth to say them.

"Thought I told you to stay at the cabin."

"Thought I told you to stop throwing your orders around."

"It's for your own good, Mulder."

"How so?"

"All these people... in your head--"

"What people?"

Alex hissed as his attempt to pull himself up only aggravated the pain in his left shoulder.

"What do you..? Can't you hear them any more?"

"No." Mulder smiled as he watched that familiar frown line crinkle across the bridge of Alex's nose.

But I can still hear *you*.

The green eyes widened, and Mulder's smile grew into an unrepentant grin. He sobered quickly, already hearing Alex's questions filling his own mind. He replied, sending his thoughts to the concerned mind.

The Rebels did something to me, injected something into me.

Mulder lapsed back into speech.

"It scared me when I couldn't hear your thoughts. I-I missed hearing you in my head. I wasn't sure if they had cured the telepathy - or if you were dead."

Mulder reached out, his fingers trailing down the stubbled jaw line before moving across to trace the outline of the beautiful mouth.

"Seems all they did was mute the telepathy to an acceptable level... and give me the ability to block out all except what I wanted to hear - and I want to hear *you*."

"Aren't you afraid of what you might find in me?"

"Nah. I know all your secrets, Alex: even the terrible ones." He looked away for a moment, trying to find the right words that would convince Alex that he had nothing to fear. "I learned everything when you gave yourself to me. I know about my father's death; about Scully's abduction. I know about every death you caused, every act of violence... and I know the reasons why."

"I had to keep you safe--"

"I know. When you got me vaccinated against the Black Oil... Was it worth the price you paid?"

Mulder's eyes dropped to the missing left arm.

"Do you really need to ask?"

"No."

They fell into a comfortable silence, no thoughts passing between them, only warm emotions. Eventually, Alex's mind returned to that last morning on the mountain.

"What happened back on the mountain?"

"The Seventh Vial."

"You said something like that before... but I don't understand the reference."

Mulder grinned, deciding not to tease his lover with predicted biblical holocausts.

"The final Colonist mothership had been buried inside the mountain. When it took off... It was like an earthquake. The rebel ship was waiting for it and opened fire; deafening noise and a spectacular light show. Better than last year's Fourth of July. They destroyed the mothership, but it was too close to the earth and debris rained down over a widespread area, like a hail storm. Larger chunks almost destroyed DC; looks like three cities instead of one now."

"And the Colonists?"

"Gone... dead or fled."

"The Rebels?"

"Gone. Earth isn't the only battlefield it seems. Your rebel friends said they would be posting a guard at the edge of the solar system, in case the Colonists try to come back."

"What about Spender?"

"Dead... along with his goons. Incinerated by the Rebels. They lit him up like a cigarette; all that's left is ashes. Fitting end for the Smoker, don't you think?"

"Then it's all over. The Colonists, the Conspiracy..."

"No. It's not all over. For us it's only just beginning."

"So there is an *us*?"

Do you need to ask?

Mulder let more than just that thought bleed across into his lover's mind, he also sent an arrow of desire, grinning as Alex gasped in shock, enjoying the way the beautiful smoky green of his lover's eyes were quickly consumed by the expanding blackness of pupil.

-ooOOoo-

EPILOGUE:

Alex awoke to find Mulder was still fast asleep by his side. He watched him for a while, eyes drifting over familiar features softened by sleep. He reached out and traced the shell of an exposed ear before his fingers drifted down the strong jaw line, enjoying the sensation of rough stubble beneath his finger pads. The pain in his shoulder had receded with the help of analgesics but he swore softly at the flare of jagged pain when he moved to get more comfortable.

It was hard to believe that almost three months had passed since that day at the cabin; Mulder had rarely left his side since then. One small consolation was that Mulder had managed to convince AD Skinner that neither of them needed to be restrained. Of course it helped that Skinner had witnessed the retreating mothership and the rebel soldiers. Eventually they had been moved from the hospital to an FBI safe house, and guards had been posted, but the guards were more for his and Mulder's benefit. It seemed that every newspaper in the entire globe had beaten a path to his door, demanding interviews with one or both of them.

The truth was out there... but no longer was it something hidden, something to be searched for. The truth had finally been exposed and, every single day, there were new reports of Consortium members being arrested - for crimes against humanity - and of Consortium-run laboratories being raided, the unwilling 'merchandise' being freed. Using the information he provided, the Russians stormed the camp at Tunguska, freeing the captives from their own living hell of the Black Oil experiments; a hell he had once shared with them.

The secret war was over, and heroes of that war against the Colonists were starting to emerge. High up on that list were the names Fox Mulder and Alexei Krycek.

Alex had spent these months answering questions publicly, shocking the world with his candidness, having decided to leave nothing out. He spoke of his recruitment to the Rebellion and his role in it, explaining the reasons behind every death at his hands.

There were those who wanted him brought to justice for the murders he had committed, but the Army lawyer AD Skinner had produced for him had argued successfully that Alex had been no different than any other Black Ops soldier fighting a war.

Alex brought his attention back to the present, his eyes focusing on the bedside clock. It seemed Skinner's lawyer was not the only one who did not consider him to be a murderer. Having spent the past months sending messages out into space, the Rebel aliens had finally decided to respond. Hasty arrangements had been made for the first official contact - and the Rebels had insisted that Fox Mulder and Alex Krycek act as intermediaries.

Technically, this made them the very first ambassadors to ever represent Earth.

Alex grinned, amazed at the turn his life had taken but more so for the beautiful man who now shared his bed. He had set the clock to wake him early, wanting to spend a little time enjoying his new lover before this day began. Alex let his fingers drift back to the handsome face, tracing the outline of the luscious mouth, letting his finger dip inside as the lips parted. A hand grasped his wrist, holding his finger in place, and hazel eyes opened, the light of devilry dancing within them as Mulder began to suck on the single digit.

Alex moaned appreciatively, never failing to love the things Mulder did with his mouth.

When his wrist was released, Mulder's hand reached out to gently trail down Alex's body, finger tips skimming his flesh, sending licks of energy zapping along his nerves. The hand molded itself around his ass cheek, fingers delving into the crease to run along the sensitive flesh. Alex gasped as a finger began to circle the tight, hidden muscle, letting himself relax as Mulder pushed inside. He moaned as Mulder's mouth continued to suck on the finger even as Mulder thrust his own finger into the tight, hot channel.

Mulder released Alex's finger suddenly, giving it one final parting lick. With his finger still thrusting and teasing the delicate inner tissues of his lover's body, Mulder kicked aside the bed covers and edged downwards, tongue and mouth teasing the sensitized skin. He grinned when Alex cried out, continuing his assault on the stiffened nipple, the feel of his lover writhing against him sending a dizzying sensation arrowing straight to his own groin.

Mulder abandoned the nipple reluctantly, continuing his journey south across rippling muscles until he reached his goal. He flicked his eyes back up the prone body, almost losing himself in the heated green eyes that caught his own. With slow, deliberate movements, Mulder licked along the length of his lover's hardened shaft from base to tip, enjoying the way those green eyes glazed over as Mulder's tongue dipped into the sensitive slit to lap up the droplets of precome. Alex's cry was even louder when Mulder took the engorged shaft into his mouth, sucking and licking while his finger continued to thrust inside the gorgeous body. He felt Alex buck as his finger brushed across the sensitive gland deep inside his lovers body. Mulder made certain his finger found that same spot again, exulting in the total mastery he had over Alex. Above him, Alex was sobbing and cussing, begging for more yet pleading for the end, echoes of his cries filling Mulder's mind, his own body spiraling higher and higher in response.

When the moment came, when Alex reached the moment of climax, every sensation, every feeling both physical and mental, flooded through Mulder, his mind snatched up and whirled in a maelstrom of intense pleasure until he came crashing back into himself. Mulder moaned, his limbs too heavy to move. He reached down and found evidence of his own spent passion sticking to his body and the sheets, awed that he had not needed a single physical touch.

Mulder dragged himself back up the bed and grinned lazily at the heavy-lidded eyes, loving the way the long, dark lashes brushed against the high cheekbones.

"That was..."

"... indescribable."

"Yeah."

Mulder leaned up on one elbow as he felt a flicker of pain crossing from his lover.

"I'll get you some paracetamol."

Mulder moved closer and kissed the soft lips, feeling the smile crease them upwards. He hauled himself out of the bed and wandered into the bathroom, catching sight of himself in the mirror above the sink. Smiling at his own reflection, Mulder licked his own kiss-swollen lips and run a hand through his sleep and passion-mussed hair.

All the years of searching were over. He had his answers, and later today he would officially welcome the first extraterrestrial ambassador to Earth, but as his thoughts roamed back along the corridor, Mulder knew that none of it was more important than finally having the man he loved by his side, filling the empty spaces in his heart and mind.

THE END

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DATE: 9th November 2000


End file.
